The Games We Play
by ladyrostova
Summary: Narcissa and Bellatrix battle over whose sexual techniques are superior. NC-17. Slash, incest.


It had begun only as a game.

Memories occasionally flashed inside her head––a pervading sense of wrongness, a delicious rebellion, a breath of intoxicating perfume, a confusion expressed only in lingering glances and explorative lips.

'Will you know how to please your husband, Cissy?' Bellatrix had said, all hot breath and heady stares. 'We wouldn't want pretty little Prince Malfoy to be displeased, would we?' she queried, mouth twisting bitterly on Lucius's name.

Narcissa had remained utterly silent, petrified with a sickening mix of terror and adrenaline. She remembered the butterflies tickling her stomach, the nervous sweat collecting at her palms, the pinkness heating her face, her chest, her ears. She would not look at Bellatrix. Her hands had remained knotted in her lap until Bella took one of them and raised it to her lips, kissing it so softly that Narcissa was left wondering whether her lips had even touched her. She had felt a swell in her chest that prompted her to lurch forward slightly, expectantly, and finally she had raised her eyes to meet her sister's.

It had begun only as a game.

It had been but a few weeks after the engagement between Narcissa Black and Lucius Malfoy was solidified and made official, and Narcissa already had cold feet. _But I am a Black, _she would assure herself, _I was born for this and I will ascend to my chosen place with pride and strength_. She had aimed to emulate the quiet tenacity of her mother. She would be fierce and determined. She would be perfect. Besides, she had known Lucius during her time at Hogwarts and she was fond of him; perhaps could even grow to love him. In fact she had hoped and even anticipated that she would one day be his wife. She only wanted to be perfect.

Perfect.

_Perfect_.

What a majestic and dreadful word.

So she had been in her room, trying on different gowns of lace and silk for her wedding night, when Bellatrix had burst in, bringing with her a smell of Firewhiskey and temptation.

'He isn't marrying an _angel_,' she had claimed after seeing Narcissa's choice of white. 'He's marrying a _Black_.' Bellatrix had drawn a black bustier and panty set out of Narcissa's drawers and tossed them on the bed. 'So _act_ like one,' she'd challenged, sliding the white nightgown from Narcissa's shoulders, leaving her naked as a babe.

Narcissa had reflexively reached to cover herself, but Bellatrix stopped her, insisting that she was going to have to learn to do away with modesty.

'Is this how you please Rodolphus, sister?' Cissa had snapped, 'with the tricks of a cheap whore?'

Sensing the insult, Bellatrix had lunged forth and encircled her Narcissa's neck with her fingers. Faces mere centimeters apart, she had whispered, 'Never forget which of us is the smarter or the stronger, _sister_. Never forget which of us is the prize to be won and which of us is the _cheap whore_, the butt of a cruel societal joke.'

Narcissa had stiffened, narrowed her eyes, struggled to retain her dignity. 'You and I are of a different world. Pray, leave me to mine and I'll leave you to yours.'

'How different are our worlds, Cissy? Men are all the same and are pleased in the same way. Let me show you how.' And then Bellatrix had approached Narcissa, who had stood shivering at the foot of the bed. Her nails were long and jagged on her sister's leg as she traced them from her knee to the top of her thigh. 'I've known how to please Rodolphus for years. Will _you_ know how to please Lucius on your first night together?' Bellatrix had been taunting her then, and Cissa had known it.

And then it had become a dominance play.

The same finger Bellatrix traced up to Narcissa's shoulder, and pressed firmly until she took the cue and fell back defenseless onto the bed. It was then that Bella took her hand, kissed it, and said, 'Will he greet his lady like this?' When Narcissa remained mute, Bella supplemented the answer. 'No, for he is no gentleman, and you are no lady. You are a lady everywhere but the _bedchamber_.' A wink was the only warning Narcissa got before Bellatrix had roughly shoved her legs apart and crawled between them.

'For Merlin's sake, Bella, I'm not a _harlot_,' Narcissa had exclaimed with frustration. She rolled onto her side and crept away from her sister. 'I will be his _wife_ and it is my job to provide him with a satisfaction he cannot get from any chit off the streets. If I am going to please him, it is going to be _my_ way.' She would prove her superiority in these matters, she had remembered thinking as she climbed atop her sister and pinned her arms above her head.

Bellatrix could have easily pushed her off but she didn't, intrigued by where her sister was going with this.

It had begun only as a game.

At that moment Narcissa hadn't seen this game for what it was. And at any rate it couldn't have been stopped. The competition between she and Bella had always been fierce.

'He will lay beneath me and I will torment him for as long as I please, and only when I allow him permission may he attain release,' Narcissa instructed haughtily, bringing her face closer and closer to Bella's neck until she teased a soft feathery kiss upon it, followed by a nibble. Bellatrix willed herself to be silent. The moment she made even the slightest noise of pleasure, the game would be won, and she would not be its victor. 'Tell me, sister,' Cissa breathed on Bella's ear, 'how often does darling _Rodolphus_ squirm with ecstasy beneath _you_?' She reached downward and gave her sister's breasts a sharp tug, and Bella closed her eyes.

It was then that Narcissa had known she was winning, for it was not often that Bella was silenced.

'It seems that I have more than a few things to teach _you_ rather than the other way around.'

Narcissa was relishing her victory now, Bella had sensed with annoyance.

She let her sister carry on with her arrogance for a minute or two more before she finally exerted the strength she'd been repressing and flipped Narcissa over, trapping her beneath her. 'As if I couldn't have done that whenever I wanted,' she said flippantly as Narcissa fought a pout.

'He is going to be rough with you if he is anything of a man under those blond curls,' her voice had came hot against Narcissa's neck. She shoved her knee between the girl's legs and began to pump it rhythmically until she sensed her sister's body tauten beneath her. 'He is not aiming to please you, he is aiming to please himself.' Bellatrix removed her leg then, and Narcissa hated herself for bucking her hips against the void it left. Bella smirked.

She lowered her body onto her sister's, only just enough to barely touch, and began to glide back and forth over her, sending shivers down Narcissa's goose-prickled skin. 'He will tease you,' she stated, controlling her voice, for a part of her had begun to throb in a way she had hoped to conceal from her sister.

But Narcissa knew her sister perhaps better than her sister knew herself, and she caught this barely perceptible breath as it came out, jagged and airy. She had felt, then, that the prospect of winning perhaps was not lost.

'But pleasing you may excite him further,' Narcissa countered, snaking her fingers up Bellatrix's skirt. A hint of wetness met her fingertips and she grinned wickedly as she began to knead it at a steady pace. Bellatrix's body had visibly quaked for a moment, before she'd closed her eyes and bit her lips to stifle a moan. Narcissa had drunk in the sight greedily and sped up her pace until she felt Bella, despite her valiant efforts toward stoicism, was close to collapse––at which point she withdrew her hand and her sister was engulfed with the burning desire to release.

But this was about winning, not about pleasure.

'No, I am quite sure your husband will not be concerned with your enjoyment of the act,' she said, confidently. 'Mating is and always has been about the man.' Bellatrix had then slid down and nestled between Narcissa's legs. A flash of wild curls and she did not hesitate before drawing the tender area at the meeting of her thighs into her mouth. She sucked and bit, but it had been animalistic than anything (if Narcissa remembered correctly) and before she knew it Narcissa was gasping as if for life, a tumbling combination of pain and thrill. Bella dug into her sister with her teeth, with her tongue, suddenly so enthralled with the act in and of itself that she almost didn't realize as Narcissa had come close to climax.

Almost.

Just as she had felt her sister's body begin to shudder with release, she pulled back and sent Narcissa a smoldering gaze. 'This is the extent of his foreplay.' The words came out dark and sultry and Narcissa found her body weaving around them much beyond her control. 'By this point he'll be nearly through, and then…' It had hung in the air, a question unanswered. And then a sudden rush of satisfaction intermingled with a smarting ache as her sister thrust two fingers inside of her.

Narcissa had cried out; a forfeit.

'Hush,' Bellatrix cautioned, eyeing the door. It had not been her plan to create a scandal.

Only to win the game with which it had all begun.

'Have I convinced you yet?' she drawled, rising from the bed. 'Put that dark one on. Dress like the Black that you are, not like a ninny. He's expecting to get a bride he can dominate and he's paying in full. Good thing you're _ever_ so skilled at being controlled.' It had been a jeer that was intended to offend, and it did.

Bella had proved her point and when she left the room, Narcissa hadn't stirred. She had just laid on the bed and stared at the ceiling, wondering what her life was to become.

Wondering how much of it was going to be a game like the ones she and Bellatrix played.

Wondering if it was as obvious to everyone else that she played the part of submission with perfection.

Perfection.

Being submissive was a skill at which she was _perfect_.

Perfect.

_Perfect_.

What a majestic and dreadful word.


End file.
